The terrible thing about all that business was not even hard whiskey could flush those memories out of their heads. No amount of vice could replace the ceaseless ache that Tenaru — or Guadalcanal, as Jackie said the Marines often called it — had left behind. She had a lot of American acquaintances, actually; for men, she was easy to take a liking to — with impossible beauty and resemblance to those Hollywood femme fatales, Jaqueline Badger was a hit with the Americans no matter how silly her surname was. That, and borderline frequent appearances at the Dug-Out made her a familiar face to the soldiers, especially with her plucky spirit.
Her unwavering brashness and up-for-anything attitude was a welcome change of pace from Virginia's constant picky mindset and prude nature that leaked from her like a welt — though, her disposition was something that came to her habitually, so as Jackie had a man practically moulded around her body as he taught her how to play darts in a unnecessarily intimate way, Virginia sat down at a circular table alone, looking after her's and Jackie's handbags to make sure they weren't stolen by slight of hand. And boy, did the blonde look unfriendly that evening; crossed arms and a set jaw married up to make a formidable character at the edge of the dancefloor, despite the easy-on-the-eye pastel of her yellow dress.
Glee and bouts of laughter was redolent in the air of the Dug-Out that evening, along with the stench of alcohol and smoke, too. Marines stumbled around the department store pop-up bar, soaking up tumblers of whiskey; on the tables to the left and right of her, couples played matches of tonsil tennis on one another's laps, leaving Ginny like some sort of loner in the middle of it all. She was left to watch Jackie have the time of her life, and ward off the Marines who came over to initiate irksome smalltalk that would eventually lead to being asked out on a date.
Jackie's man was tall, thin, lanky, was the word, with an angular jaw and a scruff of dark hair. First a talk, then a dance, then a kiss and then the boot in favour of another. They'd come back, though: Jackie! Let me take you to a show, a club, and she'd say no, no, no! Though controversial, had a rather specific view on the way she went about things, she seemed to be on a constant current of joy. She said: It'll take more than a war to stop me from having fun!
The Dug-Out was full of Marines that evening, as it was every evening, in their khaki uniforms that looked like Parson's jackets with white undershirts, but scruffier. What the women in the bar didn't know was that they weren't even allowed out at the time, but their MPs had given up on them and there was little worry about being court martialed. These men were way different to the fellas at the local cricket club, with their ties and hair gelled back with oil — these men were a different breed entirely, and eight months of seeing them around wasn't even enough to know whether to keep her distance or not.
But a word from her father had been enough for her to keep her distance for an eternity. Within months, these men would be carted off again, sniped and picked off by Japanese soldiers or taken as POWs and tortured. Why would she want to put herself through having to think about that happen to a loved one? For them to get shot in the stomach, their entrails hanging out of them like ribbons? Selfish, indeed, but it was in Virginia's best interest not to be a weeping war wife by the time they claim victory over Japan.
Two glass mugs that were brimming with froth glazed beer were haphazardly set down in front of her, sloshing over the small circular table a little due to their fullness. The stoic-seeming blonde sighed and tilted her head upwards, where she met with a brilliant Colgate white smile, a Hollywood beam that was almost as blinding as it was endearing. His hair was black and his skin was tan, and he was skinny and on the shorter side. He began, "So! Jerkins tells us you're Jackie's friend. My name's Wilbur. You looked awful lonely over here, we didn't want to deny you the virtue of some company," there was a beat of silence where they shared a gaze but neither of them said a word. After a moment, she could sense his discomfort, and to interrupt the silence, he asked, "would you like a drink? I'll get you one. Marines are on the house this evenin' 'til 2300, isn't it great?"
Chapter Two: THE LONELY SOCK
Start from the beginning
